


Things Unlikely

by theoracleatlasvegas



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Smut, ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 17:25:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13594839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoracleatlasvegas/pseuds/theoracleatlasvegas
Summary: carver and anders have an odd conversation over drinks after both get left behind for the deep roads expedition.it escalates from there.





	Things Unlikely

**Author's Note:**

> i posted this in the kink meme a million years ago and never updated but now i'm finished and in editing phase so it'll be done soon.

He's already slouched in one of the Hanged Man's uncomfortable chairs, Edwina standing in front of him waiting for his order, when he realizes he doesn't have a damn coin on him. He and his brother spent it all on that blasted Deep Roads expedition. Fucking great.

Still, he's pissed off and bored and desperately needs a drink. And after that fight with Mother there's no way he's going home, so he pleads with Edwina, says he'll pay later, to put it on Varric's tab, but she's not giving in. If it were Garrett, they would probably give him the stuff for free. Carver groans.  
This day couldn't get any worse.

And of course, as soon as he thinks that, the universe chooses to correct him.

"Are you even old enough to drink?"

Carver turns to glare at Anders, who's leaning into him from the table behind him.

"Funny," he says, deadpan. 

The smirk doesn't fall off his face. Instead, he nods at Edwina and says, "I'll pay for him."

As she turns away and leaves with a scoff, Carver raises an eyebrow at him. Anders only shrugs and pulls his chair over to Carver's table. Carver's body instinctively inches away from him.

"What are you doing?" He asks, wrinkling his nose.

"I could leave, if you prefer to sulk alone."

"I'm not _sulking_ ," Carver snaps. Then, looking away, he adds, "You shouldn't be so cheerful either. They left you here too, you know."

Anders leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. "I'm glad they did, and you should be, too. Trust me, the Deep Roads? Not as fun as you might think."

"I didn't want to go because it was _fun_. I had as much of a right to be there as my brother."

They're quiet for a second after that, quiet enough to make Carver sneak a nervous glance at Anders. Maker, that must've sounded pathethic. But Anders doesn't roll his eyes, doesn't have any witty remarks for him. He just... stares. He almost looks sympathethic. It makes Carver's insides squirm.

"Stop that," he says.

Anders sighs. "I know you're bent on hating Hawke, but--"

"If you say he just wants what's best for me, I swear I'll shove that fucking staff up your arse."

_That_ gets him an eyeroll. Much better.

"I'm just saying," he continues, "your brother can be a prick sometimes, but he does care about you. And the Deep Roads are the worst place on earth, I'd be grateful if i never have to set foot in them again. Still," he clears his throat, "I'm sorry he left you, if that makes you feel any better." And there's that tone, something close to comforting that Carver would usually find condescending, but he sounds... honest, something even Carver can appreciate, despite how uneasy all of it makes him feel. It helps, somewhat, even with the awkward tone in Anders' voice. 

Still, he's not about to let that show.

"I don't need your pity," he murmurs, looking away.

"It's not _pity _," he says, "but take it as you will."__

__The uncomfortable silence is back, and Carver doesn't quite know what to do with his hands, where to fix his eyes. He stares at a spot on the floor and tries not to squirm. He tries not to look at Anders, but finds his eyes straying despite himself, peeking at him from the corner of his eye as he downs his drink, letting himself linger for a brief second on Anders' pale throat, the slight bob of his apple as he swallows. Carver gulps and turns his gaze back onto the floor. Why is his ale taking so long?_ _

__

__"I thought your _demon_ didn't let you drink."_ _

__It's a half-assed attempt at an insult at best, and so Anders doesn't fall for it. He glares for a second, which is probably more Justice than Anders, but after that he just clears his throat, somewhat uncomfortable, and takes another sip._ _

__"I can drink," he says, "I just can't get _drunk_."_ _

__"Then what are you even doing here?"_ _

__He shrugs. "Slow day at the clinic."_ _

__It's then Edwina decides to come back and drops a mug in front of Carver with a frown. She doesn't seem to like him very much. He wonders briefly if maybe she spat in his drink - it's happened to him before - but he quickly pushes the thought away and drinks up._ _

__"A 'thank you' would be nice," Anders says, watching as Carver downs nearly half his drink at once._ _

__"Fuck you," he says back, but there's no bite to it. Anders smiles slightly next to him. Carver kind of wants to punch that grin off his face. Then again, he usually wants to punch most people._ _

__They drink in silence, but Carver manages to move past the awkwardness of it. He looks sideways at Anders from time to time, and turns away whenever Anders catches his eye, embarrassed for reasons he can't quite put into words. He thinks of his brother, of how easy it comes to him to deal with people, how he would tell a joke and Anders would laugh and all the awkwardness would just melt away. He kind of wishes he could do that right now; it doesn't feel right to just walk away after the man just bought him a drink - and, fuck, he regrets phrasing it like that because it sounds almost like Anders is flirting, like he's making some kind of advance toward him. He looks down and hopes Anders can't see the blush on his face._ _

__And that just takes him back to Garrett. Garrett wouldn't blush like a fucking virgin maid at the mere idea of Anders making a pass at him - which is fucking ridiculous, by the way - instead, he would turn it into some clever comment, tease Anders about it to lighten the mood. But he can't do that. He's not easy-going or funny or any of the things that draw everyone to his brother. All those things that make his brother _Hawke_ while Carver at best is just _Junior_._ _

__But being angry is better than being sad, so he downs the last of his drink and thinks again of his mother running up to them, begging Garrett to leave him home - not even asking Carver himself to stay, no, asking _his brother_ to leave Carver behind, as though he's in charge of him. Which, he thinks bitterly, appears to be the truth, since he's sitting in this shithole of a tavern instead of looking for treasure underground._ _

__"What are they like?" He asks absently. Anders looks up, surprised at Carver's voice. "The Deep Roads, I mean."_ _

__"They're a darkspawn infested pit that reeks of death and shit. I don't know what else you want to know."_ _

__"I could take a few Darkspawn. I was at Ostagar."_ _

__"Were you? Weren't you still wearing diapers back then?"_ _

__Great, more Carver-is-too-young-jokes. He rolls his eyes. "You're hilarious."_ _

__There's a pause. Edwina comes over and takes away Carver's empty mug. Anders offers to pay for another one, and Edwina glares at him._ _

__As she leaves, Anders says, "Not a lot of people made it out of Ostagar."_ _

__Carver hums. Anders is... trying. Not many people do that. He feels funny, kind of warm. He blames it on the alcohol._ _

__"I was lucky," he says._ _

__"I don't think you were just lucky. I've seen you fight. You're a skilled warrior." and that makes Carver choke a little, though he's not sure why. His heart pounds vigorously in his chest._ _

__He shakes his head. "There were a lot of great warriors at Ostagar who didn't make it. Better warriors than me." Still, as much as he wants to be humble about this, he can't help but feel proud of himself, and a little flustered too. He might just be a little tipsy, because he can't seem to drop it there. He's not by any means the most open person - he's not an open person at all, really - but he suddenly finds himself starved for some kind of understanding, something he hasn't found since Bethany had--_ _

__since getting to Kirkwall._ _

__Truth is, he's lonely. He usually prefers it that way, but he's upset and Anders is looking at him like he actually wants to listen, and he just spills. "I lost a lot of friends that day," he says, "It wasn't long before they took my home, too."_ _

__He tells Anders about Ostagar, about the darkspawn and the slaughter and the _fear_ , though he can't bring himself to say how it haunts him to this day, but by the way Anders is looking at him he figures he doesn't need to. He tells him about Lothering before the Blight, the hot summers, him and Beth and Garrett jumping into the lake with all their clothes on, about sneaking into the local tavern when he was a kid. And Anders listens, nods when it seems necessary, asks questions, and Carver is so damn uncomfortable but he doesn't want to break the spell. It's-- it's a good kind of uncomfortable, if such a thing exists. He struggles with the part of him that seems stuck on fight or flight instinct, the part that keeps him fighting or running from anyone who tries to get close, that bitter side everyone recognizes as _Carver_. He holds his tongue, trying not to snap at him to get back into familiar territory._ _

__Anders then tells him about his time as a Warden, about all the terrible and amazing things he ever found in the Deep Roads (turns out, there's more 'terrible' things than 'amazing'). The stories about his old cat even get a laugh out of him. He makes a half-hearted attempt to cover it up, because he's still, well, Carver, but he's... actually enjoying himself for once. Something he didn't really expect after he'd stormed out of Gamlen's house earlier. He had just planned on getting so pissed he couldn't keep arguing by the time he got back home. Mother would worry and he'd just scoff as she helped him to bed and that would be it._ _

__Edwina arrives with their third round of drinks. She drops Carver's so carelessly a good portion of it spills out on the table. As she leaves, he trails patterns of spilled beer on the wooden table with his finger._ _

__"Does that happen often?" Anders frowns._ _

__"Very," he replies simply. "I don't know what it is. Garrett keeps saying it's my face. That it looks _uninviting_ " He rolls his eyes._ _

__"It kind of is. Maybe you should smile more," Anders suggests, his tone a bit playful. Carver glares. "I bet you'd look _cuter_ if you did," he finishes and takes a sip._ _

__Carver nearly spits out a mouthful at that. Despite the fact that this is fucking terrible flirting, if it's flirting at all, his heart skips a beat. Not _cute_ , but cut _er_ \-- so Anders already thinks he's... cute? and, Maker, here he is again acting like some blushing virgin over next to nothing. It's fucking ridiculous._ _

__Anders doesn't let him off the hook, either. "Is that a _blush_ I see?" he asks, teasing. Which makes Carver blush harder. He keeps his eyes locked on the figures he traces absently on the table._ _

__"No, it fucking isn't." He tries, but Anders doesn't stop grinning._ _

__He thinks they might've inched closer to each other in the past hour, he can nearly feel Anders' warmth brushing against him. He feels almost cornered, though he doesn't _mind_ exactly. It just makes him... nervous. A strange, foreign kind of nervous. He swallows around the knot in his throat. He's not so sure he can blame it all on the beer anymore._ _

__He's not about to let _Anders_ of all people have that kind of weight on him, though. At least not without a fight. _ _

__"You know," he says, "this is the longest I've heard you talk without mentioning mages."_ _

__Anders leans into him so subtly Carver thinks he might have imagined it. "Haven't I? I should correct that," he says, "could I interest you in my Manifesto?"_ _

__Carver snorts at that. When he looks back up, Anders is smiling at him, an eyebrow raised. Involuntarily, he smiles back, feeling weirdly tense. He's really glad Isabela isn't here right now to throw some crude comment their way, because that's the last place he wants his mind to go. This situation is weird enough as it is._ _

__As he finishes his drink, Anders calls Edwina over and asks for another round. "I'll just get Hawke to pay me back later," he says. "Assuming he manages to find something in that hell-pit, that is."_ _

__And it's out of Carver's mouth before he can stop himself, "Trying to get me drunk, are you?"_ _

__Maker, he's really, _really_ glad Isabela isn't here._ _

__That gets Anders visibly flustered though. He chuckles._ _

__*  
Anders actually _walks him home_. Granted, Gamlen's house is on his way back to the clinic, and Carver is more than a little tipsy - not enough to lean on Anders as he walks, though. Not that Anders could hold him up either way, being thin as a fucking twig and all - but whatever's happening between them, the signals Anders is sending are anything but mixed. Or so he hopes._ _

__Because at this point, and being this drunk, he can't say he's not at least a little bit into the idea. Anders is... rather attractive. He's never thought about it before, mainly because every time he opened his mouth Carver got the urge to punch him in the face. Turns out he could be quite pleasant when he wasn't bitching about mages and templars. There's also the fact that he hasn't really gotten laid since he arrived to the city. He didn't really like to count the Blooming Rose; it was fun enough, but it wasn't the same if you had to pay for it._ _

__To summarize: he's drunk, horny and lonely, and Anders seems willing enough. (He won't admit the other thing; the flutter in his chest and his sweaty palms. He's been honest enough with himself for a day.)_ _

__So when they're below the staircase leading up to Gamlen's home, Carver goes for it._ _

__As Anders is about to say goodbye, Carver _lunges_ forward, grabs him by the collar and pushes him up against the wall. Anders yelps, but doesn't miss a beat kissing him back when Carver smashes their lips together. His hands settle on Carver's waist, warm and steady. When Carver starts getting _really_ into it, he pushes him away softly._ _

__"We should-- Do you want to go to the clinic?" He whispers. Carver nods enthusiastically before kissing him again._ _

__*  
They all but _run_ into Darktown; Anders holds his hand in the way there and Carver can't stop giggling - and, alright, that is definitely the alcohol, because if there's something Carver doesn't do, it's _giggle_. _ _

__Once there, Anders doesn't waste a second getting Carver's clothes off, fumbling with the buckles on his armor. He's regretting his armor choice right now, to be honest. So many buckles. Carver retaliates by ripping that stupid feather coat - seriously, a _feather coat_ \- off of him. _ _

__Anders backs him up against the wall, and Carver lets him - he could easily shrug him off, reverse their roles, but _Maker_ , the things it does to him having Anders take charge. It's embarrassing. He hopes Anders doesn't notice._ _

__Anders pushes Carver's thighs apart with one of his legs, and grabs his wrists to pin his hands over his head. Carver breathes heavy - fuck, that's hot - but still tries to keep his cool, tries not to let out any of the embarrassing noises that are pushing at his throat._ _

__Anders rubs against him, and he can't help it - his hips tilt forward on their own. He pants. He can feel the sweat gathering at his back. Anders starts sucking a path of bruises on his neck, Maker help him, sinking his teeth in deep. Anders' stubble tickles at his jaw - a little whimper may or may not fall out of his mouth at that - and he can't help wondering how it would feel scratching at his thighs._ _

__"You need to shave," he says, voice cracking slightly, "your beard itches. And you look like a vagabond."_ _

__Anders chuckles. "You don't like it?"_ _

__"No."_ _

__"Then what's this for?" He asks, groping Carver's hardening cock roughly through what remains of his clothes. Carver whines._ _

__"Never thought I'd see you speechless," Anders says, "I should do this more often. Do everyone a favor."_ _

__"Shut up" is all he can mange._ _

__Anders strokes him through his breeches, testing the waters, teasing, seeing what other pretty sounds he can get out of Carver. Carver can barely take it anymore. He's given up trying not to moan, it's completely useless at this point._ _

__"I want-- I want you to--"_ _

__"Want me to what?" Anders asks calmly, hooking his fingers on Carver's waistband. Carver's hips buck up. "Tell me."_ _

__But he can't. He refuses to give Anders the satisfaction of making him _beg_ , though the idea seems more and more appealing by the minute. Instead, he brings his hands up to Anders' shoulders and pushes down forcefully. Anders laughs, but lets Carver push him down to his knees._ _

__"Impatient, are we?"_ _

__"Just do it already."_ _

__Slowly, Anders pulls his breeches down, but just... stays there, inches away from his dick, staring up at Carver with a wicked smile._ _

__"Do what?" he asks, trailing his hands up Carver's thighs._ _

__"Please," he says, because fuck his pride, he hasn't been this turned on since -- he doesn't remember ever being this turned on, actually._ _

__Anders grabs his cock, stroking slowly, terribly, agonizingly slow, and looks at him expectantly._ _

__"Please suck me off, please, please-- fuck," and then Anders licks a stripe up the lenght of him before he takes him into his mouth and Carver feels like he's about to fucking die, like he's ready to combust into flames, and, fuck, the way Anders rubs the head of Carver's cock against the roof of his mouth is too much, far too much. This is definitely going to be the death of him._ _

__Anders is holding his hips down as Carver tries to push forward (Fuck, fuck, fuck) and when he looks up at him - Maker, Carver will be jacking off to the memory of it for ages to come - Carver just _loses_ it, can't stop moaning his name, _Anders, Anders, Anders_ , his voice higher than he thought it could go. Anders can no longer hold him down, can't compete with Carver's strenght, so he lets Carver fuck his mouth until his legs start shaking and he comes with a strangled little noise at the back of his throat._ _


End file.
